A/N I'm sorry I can't include the plan of the Holder's quarters in this document. If anyone knows a way to embed a pic, please let me know; if you want the plan, pm me and let me have an address I can send it to. It should be straightforward enough for you to sketch out from the description I hope however.

1: Sharper Than the Thorn

T'lana regarded the nascent day with disfavour.

T'lana was not exactly bored. After all, even when Thread froze from the sky as blackdust, crackdust, there were plenty of jobs for a junior weyrwomen. Especially when those duties involved several lively children. Lanelly fostered T'lana's three offspring and her own grandson Marag, Sagarra's half brother; but T'lana enjoyed spending time with them, and her other fosterling Serelis. Serelis was the same age as T'lana's first fosterling, Sagarra, the daughter of the little red-haired Weyrwoman's beloved weyrmate, R'gar. Sagarra was currently fostered with her dear friend Amrys at Rivenhill Hold: and T'lana was hoping to have the little girl back soon, once Amrys and her mother were settled in. Rillys now had an able man about the place in the person of the dragonless man Corbin; and doubtless Amrys would soon have other siblings! It would be nice to have Sagarra about the place again, T'lana reflected wistfully; she livened things up. And she would be good company for serious little Serelis, too old for her years after the accident in her father's mill had robbed her of her foot and much of her childhood in one fell swoop. And too, it would be good for Marag to get to know his half sister better. At six turns he was asking difficult to answer questions about his parentage; and T'lana had answered as fully as she could without emphasising that his mother had abandoned him. But although Lanelly was a blood relation of his, Sagarra would be one he could, in some ways, relate to better.

As to the other children, there were no problems with T'lana's almost three turn old twins. Rogan and Rofel were a pair of pure mischief, chattering away to each other in 'twin' and needed constant watching! T'lana adored them unreservedly, as she did her daughter Felgarra, less than a turn their junior, now tagging along behind her brothers in a sturdy and determined way!

T'lana sighed; and it was half a happy sigh, half frustrated. She had enjoyed being able to stretch her brain over a number of puzzles but the last few winter months ranged from the tedious to the tragic, even the high points being emotional rather than intellectual. Sh'rilla's fosterling Deela had died; and within days the girl had birthed her first child, little Shadeel. D're's family had been helped out, and his sister Kaili's twins by rape fostered by L'rilly. L'rilly was plainly not well and refusing to talk about it. Y'lara of all people had been ill, and M'gol and J'nara had finally decided to weyr together after his foray into the outside world. And there had been a hatching. All very eventful and momentous. And as a rock behind it all, her own beloved R'gar, ever a comfort.

Yet T'lana craved something more!

The young Queenrider had to admit that the weather at the back end of winter did little to inspire her or to improve her mood; especially in the grey dawn after bathing, it having been too late to seek again the sleeping furs when the temperature had risen enough for a predawn Thread scare over Tillek. And so T'lana regarded the nascent day with disfavour.

Cold grey fingers of freezing fog insinuated themselves between the seven spindles and spilled down into the bowl. They crept inexorably, roiling and writhing like outsize Threads, flowing into the bowl and filling it.

T'lana gazed down as below her weyr gradually filled with cloud, looking so soft until it rose high enough for the clammy touch to repel. T'lana hated fog. She had always hated fog, having to go out and check the runnerbeasts in for her foster father, never sure of her direction in the damp, impenetrable grey. And fog concealed Thread. Rain could destroy Thread, but fog was not wet enough. Just wet enough to soak and chill you to the bone.

"Then come in out of it" suggested Mirrith, practically.

"I'm going to, dear one" T'lana could not say why she had to watch the fog roll in. It was something of the same reason she watched Thread if for some reason she was not flying. The horrid tingle up her spine was somehow necessary.

The arrival of a weyrling's blue with a passenger, brightly clad; the arrival ghosting past and dipping into the fog below roused T'lana from her lethargy.

"A visitor at this early hour?" she murmured. "Must be important. I'd better go check it out!"

"Nosy" commented R'gar.

T'lana grinned and thumbed her nose at him in time-honoured fashion; and set off at her usual breakneck speed down the long stairs that led from Laranth's weyr that he shared with Mirrith. She was joined at the bottom by young Serelis, who grinned at her.

"Something happening, T'lana?"

"Don't know, sweetheart. I'm going to find out."

Serelis smiled seraphically.

"I'll come too" she said.

She could get along almost as fast as any other child with the wooden foot that Weyrwoodcrafter H'llon had carved for her; and the limp was scarcely noticeable as she strove to keep up with T'lana's hasty tread.

"Orth bespeaks" Mirrith told her rider. "The Weyrleader wants you. I said you were already going. I need a nap."

"Then have one ,dear one" replied T'lana equably, used to her beloved Mirrith's habit of pretending to be hard done by.

T'lana met B'lova in the bowl.

"What's going on?" asked the younger girl. "I had a message via Linith that my mother is here."

"Your mother? That's more than Orth told Mirrith. Let's hope it's not bad news" T'lana linked arms with the Ranking Green Rider in support. She had grown surprisingly fond of the girl who had begun her career at High Reaches as such a troublemaker!

Lady Bellanda looked distraught: a sufficiently unusual occurrence to immediately concern both young weyrwomen. True, she had a tendency towards hysteria where her beloved daughter was concerned, but T'lana had never seen the Ranking woman less than elegantly turned out. This morning her hair was still in a single plait for sleeping; and her skirt did not match her bodice.

"Mother?" B'lova went to her and took her hands affectionately, her worry writ upon her pretty face. Lady Bellanda hugged her daughter absently: and the girls exchanged a look. T'lana tried to give a reassuring smile, for such a lack of effusion was so uncharacteristic that B'lova looked truly taken aback!

T'bor glanced towards the doorway.

"Scram, Serelis" he said, though his tone was not unkindly.

The little girl pulled a rueful face; but duly scrammed. Just as far as the hatching cavern, currently unoccupied, where sometimes echoes made it possible to eavesdrop!

This time she was out of luck; even inside the caverns, the heavy atmosphere engendered by the fog deadened all noise. Serelis sniffed; and headed for the kitchens instead for the solace of bubbly pies from Keerana!

"What is the problem, Lady Bellanda?" T'lana asked politely.

"Oh dear, Marlov is so upset" Bellanda picked nervously at her rank knots. "Belle, I have to tell you, I'm so sorry, that your cousin Andery is – is dead!"

An expression of relief swept B'lova's face.

"Oh! Is THAT all!" she said with more honesty than tact. "Well, he's not exactly a great loss, is he?" she added prosaically. "What happened – he brained himself on the headboard getting too quickly out of another man's wife – uh, bed?"

"Belle! I mean, B'lova! Watch your tongue!" admonished her mother.

B'lova shrugged and grinned sheepishly.

"Well his philandering wasn't exactly a secret, mother. He tried to corner me in the barn once. HOW I slapped his face" she said, meditatively, savouring the memory. "I never could figure out what those silly women saw in him. Besides, he was quite old."

"He's just Turned thirty five" said her mother waspishly. "And he's not just dead, he's been murdered. And – and one of our other relations has to have done it."

T'lana's eyes gleamed with sudden interest.

"Come now, that sounds most stim….er, difficult" she said. "B'lova, get your mother klah; and for the Weyrleader and me, please, dear one. Lady Bellanda, tell me all about it."

B'lova's look showed what she thought of being strategically got rid of; and T'lana pushed out her mind-voice.

"Be reasonable, dear one. You WILL keep interrupting, and whilst she's reproving you we're getting no further. Besides, she's less likely to prevaricate if she doesn't feel a need to spare her innocent darling any gory details. I'll stay with you and you can ride along and listen through me"

B'lova was relatively content with that: she stood in great awe of her friend's gift, and felt that to share it was a privilege!

Bellanda began;

"Marlov had hoped that Bellova – as she was – might marry a cousin of some kind to secure the succession to Riverbend Hold, she being our only child. We were never blessed with any other offspring" she said sadly, and T'lana nodded sympathetically, understanding why the woman had made so much fuss over her one precious child. Bellanda went on, "Now she's Impressed my husband thought to invite all his relatives along with a view to choosing an heir, to save trouble later. They all live in part of the Hold, but it is scattered amongst several separate caverns in the rivercliffs, and across several extended cotholds. So we see little of them on a daily basis; Marlov wanted to examine them close to."

"Highly commendable!" put in T'bor. He was relieved that T'lana seemed more than equal to handling Bellanda: all she had gasped to him was that there had been a murder and she wanted that nice little Weyrwomen with red hair to sort it out, for T'lana's fame had gone before her in addition to Bellanda's gratitude over the little weyrwoman's kindness to B'lova!

"Commendable indeed" said T'lana. "Nobody needs succession squabbles. So who exactly was there and why do you suspect them only?"

"I – I'll outline who everyone is first, if I may, Weyrwoman" said Bellanda. "To give you some idea of the people….I'm not sure how objective I can be, but I'll do my best" she said. "First, my husband's brother Marlin; he's married to Gwesela and they have twins, a boy and a girl, Margwes and Gwessina. They're fifteen turns. Though I really cannot see any of them having anything to do with a killing" she shook her head.

"Outraged father, teen-aged daughter?" suggested T'lana. Bellanda looked horrified.

"No – oh no! if anyone offended Gwessina, Marlin would deal with him face to face. And besides, SHE'd have slapped his face. Gwessina's not backward about coming forward, actually she's a bit too feisty in my opinion. She wants to remain unwed and come to try for a green dragon like her cousin. In fact she asked me to ask through B'lova" she finished.

T'lana made a non-committal noise and waved for Bellanda to continue. Someone who was too feisty for Bellanda sounded suspiciously volatile. However, that would remain to be seen. The Ranking woman went on,

"Apart from Andery, who was Marlov's sister-son, the rest were sons of Marlov's uncle, his cousins. The oldest of them is Arfan. He's married to Mavelly, and their sons are Arvel and Maven. Arvel's a couple of turns younger than B'lova and at one time we had hopes…." She tailed off.

"That callow youth?" B'lova thought disgustedly

"It's been a while since you saw him, I guess. He might have improved" T'lana's return thought soothed.

"I suppose…he's got a good sense of humour, but it always used to lapse into the puerile…"

Bellanda was saying,

"Arfan is a Harper. He has a cot on the estate, and teaches all the children, in Hold and in cot. I confess I don't like him nor that insolent bovine he's married to."

T'lana flicked an interrogative eyebrow and Bellanda flushed.

"Arfan is the sort who suffers. Not just from his health but from the supposed stupidity of the children of the Hold. He gets on my nerves with his constant whining. And Mavelly always has a smart answer. She's the daughter of some Harper he met at the Harper Hall."

"Aunt Mavelly's too strong minded, too much like mummy for them to get on" remarked B'lova's mind. "She doesn't give a toss for anyone and says what she thinks. Actually, on second thoughts she's more like Pilgra, because nothing upsets her or gets her in a flap. Even when Arvel shot himself in the foot with a hunting crossbow she only told him to try not to bleed where it wasn't easy to clean while she took the bolt out" she added thoughtfully.

"And the younger boy – Maven?" T'lana could not prevent herself thinking the question.

She almost heard B'lova snort.

"He's as big a hypochondriac as his father!" she was dismissive.

Bellanda, blissfully unaware of her daughter's mental asides, went on.

"Next down in age of the cousins is Sirrer. He's in his late thirties. His wife, Aswenne, is a good bit younger, not yet thirty; but she's let herself go to seed a bit since their daughter Siriwenne was born. The child is only seven turns. Strange little girl, very self contained. I've never seen her hug either of her parents and goodness knows there's enough of Aswenne to hug" she gave a slightly spiteful titter "She's rather too fond of her food to keep a good figure, but she flaunts what she has, the vulgar piece! And Sirrer gets so angry about it. Still, even so, I don't see that it's cause to knock her about the way he does." She came up for air as T'lana reflected grimly that men who beat their wives generally beat their children too; and that the little girl sounded as though she was starved of affection. Bellanda continued, "The youngest cousin is Sirlin. He's pretty quiet. We had him pegged for an eternal bachelor, we were all so surprised when he married Fenicia. She's hardly any older than B'lova! We only first got the news of his nuptials right before my baby Impressed, and I think Marlov's still adjusting to it! Still, she seems a pleasant girl, quite cheerful and willing. Can't see what she sees in Sirlin, but there you are."

"In short, my lady, you're not that fond of any of your husband's relations" said T'lana dryly.

Bellanda gave a short, dry laugh.

"No, I suppose not. Marlin is about the best of them, and his wife may be Pern's worst manager but she does love him and the children I suppose. The rest? No, I don't like most of them. But they are kin, and knowing that no-one else could have killed Andery is a shock."

"You are certain? No retainers or anyone else from outside could have done it?"

Bellanda shook her head.

"Our steward is a very old man; he'd never overpower Andery. His wife is our ccok-headwoman. She's too old even for that little…too old even for Andery's tastes. The family living quarters close off from the rest of the Hold by a big door, which creaks. It is inconceivable that no-one would have heard it open and close twice, for someone to slip in and then leave. I sleep like the dead, but I always wake if something like a creaking door or banging shutter signals that all is not well."

"She does too. It used to make philandering very difficult" put in B'lova with feeling. T'lana nodded in reply to the girl's mother; she could well believe that Bellanda was attuned to every untoward creak of her own Hold!

"Has the body been moved at all?" T'lana asked. Bellanda shook her head.

"Marlov remembered that Lord Bargen had told him that you can find things out by looking at a body. So he just put a blanket over it for decency" she said. T'lana nodded, gratified.

"Then, Lady Bellanda, if you will let me just put together some things, I shall come at once" she said. "Perhaps if J'nara will look after Linith for a little while, the Weyrleader will permit B'lova to come home on a visit as a helpmate to you?"

T'bor nodded obediently.

"Great! I bet I can help loads!" enthused B'lova; then turned her mind to reassuring her little Green dragon of her rapid return!

oOoOo

Mirrith went neatly Between back in time to the just post-dawn Riverbend Hold, to give T'lana as much chance as possible of finding out what she could from the body of the unfortunate Andery. Indeed, Holder Marlov had not even gone back inside from seeing his wife off; and he blinked in surprise as Mirrith backwinged neatly onto the square that lay in the river loop that gave the Hold its name.

"That was quick, Weyrwoman" he said mildly as T'lana and her passengers strode over to him.

"Oh daddy! We were Timing it, of course!" B'lova explained.

"Ahh…hmm" said the Holder. "It's so good of you to come, Weyrwoman T'lana."

"Not at all" said T'lana brightly. "B'lova is High Reaches people now, so that almost makes you family. Now, can I see your body as soon as possible, please?"

B'lova giggled.

"That could be misconstrued" she gurgled.

"Impudent weyrling brat" said T'lana lazily, wagging a finger at the girl. B'lova grinned unrepentantly.

"Lead on, daddy" she sobered up. "T'lana can tell lots from a body."

The Holder nodded.

"So I hear. It's in his room – I locked the door."

"How many people have already been in there and seen the body?" asked T'lana.

"Only myself. I had got up to use the Necessary – I find I have to do so these days – and his door was open and the glows uncovered. I looked round the door in case Andery were ill – and because I was half afraid he'd been seducing one of my cousins' wives, or persuaded one of the kitchen girls to stay. I intended to give him a lecture if he had. And there he was, wallowing in his gore as the Harpers would put it. Spoiled a perfectly good Benden patchwork quilt" he added indignantly.

"Soak it in salt water" recommended T'lana "Your good lady will know."

Bellanda nodded sagely. Marlov looked worried.

"But will anyone sleep under it knowing someone was murdered on it?" he asked.

"Don't tell 'em" said T'lana. She reflected, not for the first time, how strange it was that in times of stress people should often fixate on relative trivialities!

Marlov unlocked the door of the young man's room and hesitated.

"I don't think my wife and daughter should…." He tailed off. "I'm not sure I should ask you…."

T'lana gently, but firmly pushed the door and moved past him.

"Take Lady Bellanda back to your rooms. She's been very brave. This is a job for Weyrwomen. B'lova and I are more than equal to it" she told him firmly; forbearing to point out that in due course it would be Bellanda's duty to lay out the body as fell to the most senior woman of any community as a final duty to the deceased.

The two girls walked into the room; and T'lana drew back the blanket hastily thrown over the mound on the bed. B'lova gulped hard. T'lana's eyebrows went up and she compressed her lips firmly. Wallowing in gore was no exaggeration. Andery's throat had been slashed clean across and blood had spattered everywhere. All over the walls, the quilt, even on the low ceiling.

T'lana examine the young man's hands. They were unmarked by ligature marks; but his wrists were discoloured by bruising. There were no cuts on the hands and there appeared to be nothing under the nails.

"He was asleep" she commented "Or maybe tied: though I see no cord marks. Look at the ferocity of the blow – it's a backhand stroke, left to right, and it's carried blood and spotted it all against the wall right up to the ceiling where blood flew off the knife while it was still travelling after it left his flesh. Somebody must have knelt across him to do that. Why didn't he wake?"

"Drugged?" suggested B'lova.

"Possibly…or maybe he was taken by surprise" she sniffed his mouth. "The stench of blood masks any fellis, for it need not be a strong dose to make him sluggish…."

"It must be a little difficult to take a man by surprise if someone kneels over him with a knife" opined B'lova.

"Mmm. There are bruises on his wrists….they're quite round, I wonder if he was held down by someone's knees?"

"Shouldn't he have struggled more?"

"What if it were presented as a game? A sex game?" suggested T'lana. "Especially if he were fellised enough to be sluggish of thought…"

"A woman?"

"If anyone came to him clad, their clothes would be covered in blood. Now, I'm going to do a search of all clothes; and we're going straight away to check the kitchen hearth for burned fibres in case anyone burned what they were wearing, not realising how much blood he had in him….but my mind is saying 'naked'. And the only thing that would not alert him would be a naked woman, even if his reflexes were slowed by drugs. I think he was drugged lightly. Let's just check how long he's been dead…." She felt the jaw. "It's well developed here, but not much further down. Enough I think to say that he probably died before midnight. All right, hearth first; then if your father will assemble everyone we'll search all the presses and then start the questioning."

Locking the door and taking the key, T'lana went into the kitchens. An elderly couple were there, wearing the knots of senior staff, the figure of eight intertwined in a circle in the double strand with Riverbend's colours of dark blue and light blue twisted for one strand, the silver grey denoting a minor hold for the other. Tassels on each showed their status as important senior staff, steward and headwoman. They looked scared. Holder Marlov was there too, speaking soothingly, assuring them that nobody would accuse them just because they were the only non family members. A good man, thought T'lana, looking every inch the Holder, too, well turned out, a good strong frame and his blonde hair neatly pushed back behind his ears. She smiled reassuringly at the steward and his wife.

"Holder Marlov, please ask the other staff not to report to work here just yet" she said. "And ask all your relatives to get up and assemble in the dining area. Perhaps klah and rolls all round could be organised?" she smiled at the headwoman "I hear your fresh sweet yeast rolls are something to remember!"

The headwoman looked pleased at the compliment and sketched a curtsey. She started bustling, glad of something to do. T'lana approached the big fire hole by the ovens and carefully raked out the ashes, gingerly for the fire never went out in inclement weather. She picked them over with the shovel.

"No. Nothing but the ashes of blackrock and firewood" she said to B'lova.

"What else would you find, My Lady?" asked the old woman.

"I wanted to see if anyone has burned clothing" said T'lana.

"Oh no, My Lady, not to my knowledge."

T'lana smiled and nodded, and did not mention that anyone burning such guilty clothing was unlikely to be doing it with anyone's knowledge! She waved to B'lova to show her around. They started in Marlov and Bellanda's room to give the others time to rise and move to the dining area; and did not neglect B'lova's old room lest it be used as a hiding place!

oOoOo

The only blood the weyrwomen found was in the room of Sirlin and his new bride Fenicia: and as it was associated with certain extra underlinen, T'lana sniffed and drew her own conclusions. The bloody state of the bedlinen suggested that Sirlin was not as particular as some men could be; and Fenicia presumably did not suffer the pains some women did, nor did she pretend so to do. Unless her husband did not care.

"Either Sirlin's a cruel and selfish man or it's a genuine love match" T'lana commented; and then explained her reasoning to the puzzled B'lova. "If it's a love match, she's happy to lay with him during her times, and then her only motives would be to avoid hurt to her husband if Andery had, as you might say, known her first and threatened to talk. But I reckon there'd have been blood on his belly, smeared blood, if it had been her."

After searching all the rooms, T'lana and B'lova went into the common caverns of the Hold to talk to the drudges who came in to the family part to help cook and clean, and to find out if anyone else might have grudge against Andery or had heard gossip.

The drudges consisted of three men, one of them distinctly lacking, and as many women. One of these was a toothless old crone, another scarcely pubescent and the third a silly chit who giggled and blushed all the time and made it clear she would be glad of Andery's advances. T'lana managed to collect a group about her discussing Andery and came to the conclusion that most of the younger women considered him attractive and most of the men felt him to be a dangerous womaniser. At least three started a celebration on hearing of his death and one declared whoever had done it deserved a vat of beer and a life's supply of bubbly pies! There were no end of motives here – one man doubted the paternity of his son; another was raising a granddaughter whose mother died birthing her bastard; another had a daughter who had diminished her chance of marriage even though she had been lucky enough not to fall pregnant. It went on. But the door creaked: and having come through it T'lana doubted that anyone could sleep through such a prolonged and arthritic creak, even a drunken dragonrider sleeping off dragonlust!

T'lana returned thoughtfully to the dining cavern of the rambling family quarters. This part was built back into the river cliffs and was lit by glows; T'lana found it oppressive and almost claustrophobic having lived all her life with at least a window to the outside. The artificial light showed various anxious expressions; Holder Marlov had evidently apprised all his relatives of the circumstances. Four people, a couple and a boy and a girl in their teens wore the complex double figure of eight knot of members of the main line; the rest wore the simpler, though still fairly convoluted knot of a cadet branch of the Holder's family. They would be Marlov's cousins.

"Good morning" said T'lana evenly "Which is rather an inadequate greeting under the circumstances I'm afraid. I expect that Holder Marlov has explained that I'm quite good at solving mysteries: and that I'm going to ask each of you in turn what may sound like impertinent questions. Please be aware that they are germane to the situation; and that I shall not pass on anything that proves embarrassing. Only the killer need be afraid of honesty, and indeed not even the killer if there are sufficient extenuating circumstances. I know none of you: you need never see me again once this is over. You can be quite open. Is that clear?"

"Like a mountain spring, love" said a handsome, woman, approaching middle age. "Impertinent questions are fine; I do impertinent questions myself."

"Thank you – Mavelly, is it?" guessed T'lana, the woman tallying to the description Bellanda had given. Mavelly raised her mug of klah in a semi mocking toast.

"I'd like to see you again after this" said the girl of the two teenagers with main line knots. "I'd like to come to the Weyr as a candidate!" she had golden curls and an excited, breathy and rather little girl voice.

"Gwessina I presume. That we shall see about – but not now" said T'lana firmly. "Though if I may say so, in the light of the rapid maturation of Green dragons you may wish to wait a turn or two."

"What has that – oh!" the girl's cheeks burned. T'lana exchanged a speaking look with the woman beside her, a motherly looking body; and understanding was reached through eye contact alone.

T'lana disengaged her attentions from the Holder's brother's family and swept a gaze about the room.

"I will begin with Holder Marlov's brother if I may" she said "Followed by his wife and offspring. I will then follow with each of the Holder's cousins and their families in birth order of the cousins. The order I see each family will depend" she nodded to Marlov and Bellanda. "In your study, if I may?"

Marlov nodded, and led her into his own sanctum. It was a pleasant room, wood panelling to the room over the stone giving it a pleasing warmth. Stone so often seemed to absorb the heat of even the hottest fire, but here a small fire crackled cheerily in a big grate and put out ample warmth to warm the room A big desk sat beside a wooden scroll store stretching from floor to ceiling, each span-width compartment filled with a big record scroll. T'lana nodded to a stool.

"Blova, sit there by the fire and make notes on the sheaf of leaves there. It doesn't matter what you write, but if people think we have paper just to write down everything they say, that'll keep them off balance and more likely to betray any secrets."

"That's unfair."

"So's cutting a man's throat without giving him a chance to defend himself. Maybe he did something to deserve it; and we need to find that out so your father can pass judgement accordingly and fairly. Start by making a sketch of this area and writing in who sleeps where."

Marlin entered the room; and T'lana indicated the chair she had placed across the desk from her. He glanced at B'lova where she sat on the low stool.

"What is my niece up to?" he asked curiously.

"Taking notes" said T'lana.

"Notes? You have parchment – no, paper! To waste? Fascinating!" he said. "Do you by chance have any for sale? I'd be willing to buy…"

"You'd have to ask our Weyrwoodcrafter" said T'lana. "Now if you don't mind, if we can get on…."

"Of course, I'm sorry. How can I help you Weyrwoman?" he asked courteously.

"Tell me your actions last night" T'lana said.

"Last night?"

"During the night would perhaps have been better" she amended.

"Throughout? Well…my wife and I went to bed….we spoke for a while. We discussed Andery, actually. I felt his behaviour was unacceptable, trying to fascinate Sirlin's new wife, not to mention turning on the charm to both Aswenne and even our little Gwessi."

"What did your wife say?"

"Well, she was of the opinion that any woman who let herself be charmed as a fool. She said our Gwessi hadn't even noticed" he paused "I'm bound to say I think she was probably right!" he went on, "And then we went to sleep. In the morning there was obviously something going on, but I heard nothing during the night."

"Very well. If you think of anything, no matter how trivial, let me know. Perhaps you will send your wife in now?"

Marlin nodded.

"Is that all?" he asked.

"Certainly for the time being, yes" said T'lana.

Gwesela smiled brightly at T'lana.

"It's a good job it only happened last night during the night!" she said cheerfully. "My memory's so bad, I reckon I'd not otherwise remember much, one day being much like another!"

"What did you do last night? Starting with goint to bed?" asked T'lana.

"Ah, I remember that. Marlin was holding forth about Andery's behaviour. I hear he has three illegitimate children in the lower caverns, though whether that's just the main part here or counts his parents' cavern as well or if he has more in his own section I don't know. But that gives at least three good reasons to kill him, doesn't it? I mean on the part of their husbands or fathers….but unfortunately we're closed off" she added mournfully "So it has to be one of us. But someone went to see him in the night."

"They did? When?"

Gwesela frowned.

"I couldn't say exactly. Marlin had covered the glows, and I had been busy dropping off to sleep when he started to snore. He always does, you know, in a a strange bed" she explained. "So I had to wake him up to prod him, so he'd turn over. And before I quite dropped off again I heard stealthy footsteps go past the door in the direction of Andery's room – it being next to ours. The Necessary is the other way from our room so I thought – if I thought it coherently – that one of those silly women had succumbed to his charms. So sad if so; but if Sirlin wants to keep his pretty wife he'd do well to be less dour, and of course poor Aswenne has no charms but is desperate for some affection. But I suppose it might have been the killer, mightn't it?"

"It might indeed" agreed T'lana gravely.

"Of course, I might have dreamed it all" added Gwesela brightly and unhelpfully. "I was in a strange bed too and other people's home's noises make unaccustomed noises, don't they?"

"True. And his philandering was on your mind; but it is more than likely that you did here something." Said T'lana.

"Philandering – good word. PhilAndery if you ask me!" Gwesela laughed at her own pun.

"Send in one or both of your children next" asked T'lana, reflecting that she for one was not about to grieve for the dead man!

Gwessina and Margwes came in together.

"I suppose both of you slept like tops and didn't stir?" T'lana asked cynically. Gwessina prodded her brother meaningfully.

"Er…." Said Margwes "Promise you won't tell father?"

"It's not my place to tell your father anything" said T'lana. "Though I might take it upon myself to mention any thoughts I have on anything you've been up to."

He grinned and pushed a lock of his unruly golden hair out of his eyes.

"Well, it's like this. Arvel knows this really nice girl, very obliging and not too expensive" he reddened "Who he promised to introduce me to. So we weren't in the boy's dorm, we stuffed bolsters down the bed and we threatened to beat up Maven if he told. That sounds bad but he's an awful little sneak you know."

"By the First Egg! You Holderfolk certainly do go in for bed hopping in a big way!" exclaimed T'lana. "I'm glad I live in a Weyr; it's much less stressful to have a simple sex life!"

"But – what you said about Green dragons – that means bed hopping, doesn't it?" put in Gwessina.

"Kind of…most people like to pick a mate first and stick to him. I think it's the clandestine part that seems so – so WEARING!" explained T'lana. "Right, that's Arvel and Margwes accounted for….don't you talk to him until I've checked your stories tally; you can send him and Maven in when I've finished with you. Gwessina, you shared a room with Siriwenne?"

The girl nodded.

"I didn't get much sleep. She talks all the time in her sleep."

"What about?"

Gwessina shrugged.

"I don't know. I wasn't listening. It's pretty selfish of her to keep others awake like that."

T'lana eyed her with disfavour.

"People generally only talk in their sleep" the little Weyrwoman said tartly "If they're upset about something or worried. And in a small child it is cause for serious concern."

Gwessina shrugged again.

"She's a peculiar child anyway" she said sulkily. "You never know if she's going to play the fool or be in the sulks. Needs a good spanking I bet."

"So you heard nothing but the child? Nobody visiting the Necessary or anything?"

Gwessina shook her head.

"I heard nothing"

And I bet you slept most of the night too, despite your dramatic complaints, you little tunnel snake, thought T'lana. No way I'm having you in MY Weyr if I can avoid it. Pilgra's Weyr, rather.

Arvel and Maven came in together; and T'lana frowned.

"I want to know what each of you did during the night: and if you heard anything" she said. "I'm not out to make trouble for anyone."

Arvel gave a sardonic grin. He was a turn or two younger than her and B'lova and good looking in the carefully untidy vein. Girls probably liked to smooth his pale blonde locks down.

"I guess I'd better confess, then, Weyrwoman" he gave her the eye and T'lana ignored it. "I took my cousin Margwes to a loving wench. Thought it was high time he got laid."

Maven snuffled.

"He said he'd beat me up if I told" he whined "So I was on my own. Right next to Cousin Andery's room. I could have been killed instead!"

T'lana tried not to eye the boy with disfavour. He looked everything that was neat and nicely turned out and his butter-yellow hair was slicked down neatly in contrast to his brother's disarranged mop. He was much of an age that the boy Tyrin had been when T'lana had just begun to foster him. Tyrin was a boy of unfailing cheerfulness and stoicism in the face of much suffering; and she could not help comparing the two.

"Did you hear anything?" she asked.

Maven shook his head violently.

"When I heard the flappy feet go into Andery's room I put my head under the covers. I didn't want to hear them grunting and squeaking like they always do. I didn't hear anything!"

"They?" she queried his statement "Andery and who do you mean by that?"

"Whoever. Women! When we stay with Uncle Andreas and Aunt Marrera, Andery always has someone in his room"

Andreas and Marrera would be Andery's parents; Maven would visit all the caverns of the Hold and the cotholds on a regular basis since his father was the travelling Harper. It was an odd situation in some ways, not to have all the family under one cavern roof, but handy to have Ranking ale to supervise subsidiary caverns since they were separated.

Arvel poked his brother.

"Don't be a little fool. At least Andery don't like boys like that Marksman that came through" Maven whimpered and Arvel grinned. "Tried to lay a hand on Maven's privates. HOW his nose bled! Maven's a sneak and a wimp but he IS my brother."

T'lana nodded approval. She had not been sure how she liked this lad, ready to threaten his little brother – however irritating he might be – and seemingly ambitious to be as great a philanderer as Andery himself. But if he'd fight for his little brother he went a long way to redeem himself in her eyes!

"How did you mighty chunks of manhood get out of the family Hold without the door creaking?" she asked.

Arvel grinned cheekily, unabashed by her sarcasm.

"We pleaded tiredness and slipped away before the last drudge had finished banking the fires for the night" he said. "Simple!"

T'lana nodded.

"Very good. I may ask you more later; you may both go" she nodded dismissal.

T'lana waited until the boys were down the passage then quietly followed them, standing by the door of the dining cavern to see what she might hear. Her little gold firelizard, Merry, knew 'ssh!' when given the command; and sat silently on the Weyrwoman's shoulder, her tail wrapped tightly about her neck, head on one side as though she were listening too! T'lana moved gently until she had a view into the room through the partly open door. She relied on the fact that boys are notoriously bad at shutting doors behind them.

"Who does this chit think she is anyway, ordering us about!" the over loud tones of a plump, though still not totally unattractive woman pierced the low conversation.

"Shut up" a man said sharply. "I advise you, Aswenne, to guard your tongue – severely. Antagonising Weyrfolk is only going to get you into trouble."

The woman seemed to deflate. Her husband – T'lana assumed – put a hand on her arm. It seemed at first glance to be reassuring; but T'lana saw the woman bite her lip. Her husband, that would be Sirrer, went on,

"We can say that neither of us left our room all night. We can back each other up" the woman bit her lip again, her face greying as the fingers bit deeper into her fleshy arm. She nodded hastily.

The small child seated on the floor gave them both a sharp look. Her little face was too peaked for a little girl in a well off home; and T'lana's eyes narrowed. There was a fresh bruise on the child's cheekbone too. T'lana almost gasped as she felt the waves of palpable hate from the little girl towards her parents. This one had power in plenty – and it was high time to start re-channelling it into more positive directions! Ah, if she could only prove the child ill-used, Holder Marlov could be persuaded to let the child's cousin B'lova foster her….

T'lana abandoned her study of the little girl to observe the other two couples. A balding man with Harper knots, the two blues of Riverbend as his place of assignment a not quite harmonious arrangement with the vivid Harper blue, had to be Arfan. He was talking – whining would be a better description – to the Headwoman.

"No, no Klah for me Abelline. It upsets my constitution. Just water, please, or an eggnog. That would set me up just fine!"

"That it might, Harper Arfan, but the fowls be off lay and I'm saving the eggs there are for me Lady Bellanda."

"Ah….Bellanda. but she doesn't understand how I suffer. She's never had a day's illness in her life."

Abelline snorted, and bustled off; and Mavelly addressed her husand.

"Now, Arfan, you know fine well you'd have less trouble with your digestion if you only took a bracing walk twice a day!"

Arfan gave his wife a darkling look, and muttered to himself. He forgot himself enough to drink the klah Abelline had left, though.

The final couple were sitting quietly. From her viewpoint at the door, T'lana could see Sirlin covertly holding Fenicia's hand under the table. His outward demeanour was forbidding; but his eyes softened as they lay upon his wife.

T'lana deliberately stamped her feet to walk into the room. An embarrassed silence fell as she came in.

"I should like to speak to Mavelly please" she said "And after her, Arfan" she nodded to the Harper's wife and gestured her to follow to the study.

Mavelly was fit looking as well as still handsome, weatherbeaten but in a way that suited her. She met T'lana's gaze squarely with her own.

"Marlin says you're asking what we all did all night" she said. T'lana nodded briefly confirmation. Mavelly went on, "I'd like to say we spent it in wild passion, but I'm afraid those days are past" she sighed gustily. T'lana had trouble imagining Arfan EVER involved in wild passion; it would surely make his back ache, or something! But she said nothing, gesturing for Mavelly to continue. She did.

"I confess I sleep like a log. Plenty of fresh air and exercise and a healthy diet. You may learn more from my husband; he always reckons he's a poor sleeper awakened by any little noise. Sorry I can't be more help."

She did not sound sorry.

T'lana asked,

"Does nothing ever wake you then?"

Mavelly shook her head.

"No. I used to wake when I heard Arvel moving about when he started his amatory adventures. Now I know what he's up to I don't even hear him, if that makes sense."

So much for the careful placing of bolsters in beds! Arvel's mother seemed quite unperturbed by her eldest child's nocturnal activities; and probably had a healthier relationship with him for that. T'lana nodded in understanding at the woman's statement; it was like she didn't hear as such R'gar's gentle snores, unless respitory infection made them change note; which was so rare as to almost never happen. Or like dragons snuffle-snorting as they turned over on their sandy couch.

"If you heard nothing unusual, then my congratulations on your ability to sleep so well!" said T'lana, adding as Mavelly looked smug "I confess I'd have been in the same case! We Weyrwomen have to work hard and we're usually too tired to do anything but sleep well! I'll talk to your husband now, if you'll send him through to me."

Apart from slight pallor, Arfan looked healthy enough. His pale yellow hair was even slightly lighter than that of his sons; it added to his general air of pallor and colourlessness. T'lana suspected that half the reason for his atrobilious attitude was a desire to be pampered and gently bullied by his bossy, but still fond, wife. Arfan eased himself into the chair carefully, favouring every joint he could think of. T'lana let him settle and said,

"Your wife tells me you are a poor sleeper – which means you are a most valuable witness!"

Arfan heaved a deep sigh; it came close to being a groan.

"Mavelly is good to me. Very good to me. But she doesn't understand how I suffer! She sleeps like one dead!" he moaned, then looked suddenly guilty as he realised that such a remark might not be in good taste.

"Accepting that you suffer" T'lana ignored his lapse in taste and decided to move on without a catalogue of specific suffering "Can you tell me what, if anything, you heard in the night?"

Arfan shut his eyes and groaned, supporting his forehead on long Harper's fingers and evidently determined to get the best he could from a new audience.

"Of course I had to use the Necessary several times" he said "One does at my age and in my condition. My frame never was healthy, and the degeneration of the turns…."

T'lana interrupted the degeneration of the turns to ask,

"So you passed Andery's door several times?"

"I – no, not exactly; but I could see it across the passage when I left our room. It was shut the first time. Later it was ajar and the glows were still uncovered. I thought nothing of it. The young man was a bad lot and not fit to have around female drudges, or any females for that matter. I certainly didn't want to talk to him, so I was very quiet that time…anyway, I then heard the bed creak and a woman laugh. Disgusting behaviour!"

"Definitely a woman's laugh?"

"Well he'd scarcely be bedding a man, would he?" asked the Harper huffily. "It wasn't very late. If you ask me it was that young thing Fenicia, and my brother Sirlin caught them at it and killed Andery. And entitled to kill him for that too in my opinion. The law certainly allows it a fair reason."

"You don't approve of your brother's marriage?"

"She's a flighty young thing. What for did she marry him but wealth and position, you tell me?"

"You don't think it could be a love match?" asked T'lana.

"Don't make me laugh! They hardly even look at each other! She's after a comfortable life and he's 'repenting at leisure' as they say, having found her out!"

T'lana's opinion of Harper-trained observation took something of a downturn at this point.

It took her several more minutes to get rid of the hypochondriac Harper without hearing all his woes; and she asked him to send in Aswenne.

Aswenne could have been pretty. Her rather overabundant figure was not considered attractive by the standards of most dragonriders, but T'lana knew that many men liked an ample woman. Her features were regular; but they and her figure seemed to be sliding downwards in an inexorable general decline. Her mouth drooped in unhappy lines; her eyes sagged. She made T'lana think of a bag of manure dumped unceremoniously on a ledge. She spoke quickly as she came under the little Weyrwoman's scrutiny.

"My husband and I were together all night."

T'lana raised an eyebrow.

"And you have the bruises to prove it, no doubt."

"I – what do you mean by that?"

"I put it to you that you say and do whatever your husband tells you to say and do."

A hunted look came into the slightly protuberant pale blue eyes; to be chased by a sudden look of….hope? cunning? T'lana was not sure.

Aswenne said,

"Well, you surely don't count the time I spent in the Necessary – I felt unwell. But surely there would not be time for my husband….." she trailed off and dropped her eyes. T'lana sat, silent; and Aswenne glanced up through her lashes. T'lana asked,

"You say you went to the Necessary and spent some time there?"

Aswenne nodded. T'lana pursed her lips.

"Was there a light still shining under Marlin and Gwesela's door when you passed it?" she asked suddenly.

Aswenne shook her head.

"I didn't see one. I wasn't looking."

"Very well. Send in Sirrer."

Aswenne gasped.

"Don't tell him what I said!" her fear seemed real enough.

"After you have sent Sirrer to us go directly to Marlov. Tell him how your husband mistreats you and your daughter; tell him I will witness. I know that desperation can drive you to things you can later regret" T'lana's tone held sympathy. "I will do what I can to help you in this sorry affair, I give you my word on Mirrith's egg."

Aswenne stumbled out; and B'lova frowned, flicking back through her notes to look up her sketch plan of the sleeping arrangements.

"T'lana, there's something here that doesn't fit" she ventured.

"Yes, dear one, I know. I asked the question on purpose."

They were interrupted by the arrival of Sirrer. He was a big man with an antagonistic expression. His hair was a mid blonde, cropped short in a way that was unfashionable for holderfolk though common enough amongst dragonriders. Somehow the lack of softening to the head seemed to add to his aggressiveness. He led with his pugnacious jaw.

"I don't really feel I can add to whatever my wife told you" he said without preamble, not deigning to sit where T'lana indicated.

"No?" T'lana's voice was soft. "Yet she spent time in the Necessary. What did you do while she was in there?"

Sirrer's eyes fairly bulged with rage and a muscle twitched in the side of his face. His face suffused with purple, and T'lana was interested to note that she could see it spread across his scalp through his short, pale hair.

"She said that, did she? She was lying! She may have gone to the bathing room to wash off the blood, but the time she was out of the room it was killing Andery, and I will not protect her if she's trying to blame me!" he shouted.

"Yes I know she killed Andery" said T'lana calmly, unmoved by his anger. "Because you told her to. And I know why. Andery was a proddy little turd who had to try to charm any woman not actually geriatric; and I suspect that downtrodden Aswenne was flattered. Now Andery would never actually sleep with her; the impression I gained was that he liked his bedmates to be slender young things. Besides, I doubt she'd dare to actually cheat on you. But you couldn't see that, could you? She's your possession. She had to prove to you that Andery meant nothing to her and your orders meant everything – by killing him. He may not have admired her, but a man is usually flattered to wake up with a naked woman astride him. Tell me, did you slow him down by lacing his night time klah with fellis, or did she?"

T'lana had surmised most of the details; and as she had done before used her 'inner ear' to check them as she spoke. Sirrer stared at her, white faced.

"YOU!" he roared, launching himself at her.

B'lova languidly extended her foot; and he tripped headlong, knocking himself out on the desk. T'lana bent to check his breathing.

"He'll live" she said laconically. "Come in Siriwenne" she commanded.

The child slid round the door.

"How did you know I was there?"

"It's my business to know things like that. You saw something in the night, didn't you?"

The child nodded.

"I was thirsty. I got up for a drink of water. Gwessina was snoring like a watchwher. I – I saw mother naked and all covered in blood!" her face crumpled and she dissolved into tears of remembered terror. T'lana came round the desk and put her arms around her. Siriwenne shook with muffled sobs.

"Which of them hit you?" the Weyrwoman asked.

"Sirrer. He came into the girls' room and told me I better not say anything. Then he hit me to remind me, of course."

"There's no 'of course' about it!" admonished T'lana indignantly. "Surely you know that you get hit more than a lot of kids?"

The thin shoulders shrugged.

"I thought I was badder than other kids. I hate my parents. That's bad, isn't it?"

"My poor kiddie, it's never good to hate anyone. But you've good excuse, I guess. Don't worry. B'lova is your cousin – we have cause to take you away from here."

"Here – I'm no good at mothering people!" protested B'lova in lively alarm. "That's J'nara you're thinking of. Even Teegan sticks out his lip when he sees me, and he's a sunny enough babe with most people!" she referred to the child J'nara was fostering who had survived the avalanche that had killed his mother.

"Fardles" said T'lana. "Besides, she can foster with me in with Serelis and Sagarra and Marag. More fun for her that way" she added prosaically. "Would you like that, Siriwenne?"

The little girl regarded her with solemn dark eyes, big in her peaked face, made like Arfan's paler by the pale hair around it.

"No-one ever asked me what I'd like before" she said. "They just say 'the child should do this' or 'the child will like that' as though I didn't even have a name. I guess if you care what I want – even if it's only a pretend that you care – I'd rather be with you."

T'lana hugged Siriwenne in speechless pain for her misery.

"Good. That's settled then" she said.

"T'lana, what if father protests?" asked B'lova.

"Dear one, I can handle your father. Blindfold, in fog, standing on one leg."

B'lova giggled.

On the floor Sirrer groaned.

"Go to your father" T'lana said to B'lova. "I'll tell him what happened and what we're going to do about it." The little weyrwoman expertly tied Sirrer up before his wits fully returned to him. She did not want him harming his daughter, whatever she thought of his chances of hurting her!

Sirlin and Fenicia arrived before Holder Marlov got there.

"You've not asked us what we were doing" said Fenicia, bluntly.

T'lana looked from one to the other.

"I don't need to" she said. "I would have thought it pretty obvious what you were doing."

Both flushed.

"Obvious?" Sirlin was surprised.

"Especially to me" said T'lana. "My man is pretty reserved too. I recognise the signs. Besides, I HAVE seen the sheets in your room. Various stains, you know."

The couple were highly embarrassed! T'lana grinned.

"I'm really glad you're happy together" she told them. "Some relatives B'lova can be truly glad to claim!"

"T'lana's very blunt" murmured B'lova. "She gets it from Pilgra. You get used to it" the young Greenrider had returned with her father; and he had brought Aswenne, who cried out in relief to see her husband lying – glaring balefully – like a trussed porcine on the floor and gagged against his intemperate language.

T'lana recounted to all the family what had happened; and Marlov shook his head in horrified wonder.

"Aswenne – a woman! I could see that many husbands…or fathers…what am I to do? Will you advise me, Werywoman?"

"Aswenne is as much a victim in many ways as Andery. I suggest you set her to work to pay her debt for his life; it must be up to you whether she do that work for your sister or not. But if, as I suspect, Andery was spoiled, then she will only be in a position to be bullied again. Then having killed once, she might do it again as an escape; and that would harden her. I would suggest you keep her under your eye, or ask someone practical like Mavelly to take her on. As to your cousin, I'm afraid he's just plain nasty and in your shoes I'd refer the whole matter to Lord Bargen. I would also suggest that as neither is fit to care for Siriwenne that she be fostered by her cousin B'lova."

"Taken to the Weyr? So young?" Marlov was startled.

"I think a totally fresh start elsewhere would do her the world of good" said T'lana firmly.

"Well – if you think so, Weyrwoman. If you think my daughter capable…." He finished dubiously.

"She'll have a lot of help" said T'lana cheerfully.

There was a sudden outcry from Gwessina.

"How come that brat gets to go to the Weyr and I don't?" she demanded, actually stamping her foot. T'lana regareded her with a frosty eye.

"You've not heard a word about what she's been through have you, you selfish little bovine? She comes because she needs us; and she at least has some modicum of self control. We don't want any more spoiled brats who are too self centred to care about the troubles even of their young relatives let alone see a bigger picture. Dragonriders are protectors of the people, not just there to flit around being unkind and impatient at them. Keep that attitude, my girl and you'll NEVER Impress a dragon!"

Gwessina gasped at that blunt speech. Her mother tutted.

"Dear me, Gwessi, you haven't let people flatter you just because the family is well off, have you? I'm sorry. It looks as though I've failed you as a mother. I think it's time you were set to work" she smiled sunnily "There's a nice family in an outlying cot who could use a good strong girl to help nurse their ailing aunties. I'll sort that out."

T'lana gave Gwessina an encouraging smile. If she could outgrow her adolescent bad behaviour – and she would if her mother had anything to do about it – then they would see about accepting her at the Weyr. T'lana kept quiet about it being the girl's Right to come! And the family did, she reflected, have power.

Afterword

Sirrer tried to tell Lord Bargen that he was no murderer since he never laid a finger on Andery.

Lord Bargen pointed out that it was not he who would terminate Sirrer's worthless life but the rope noose as it tightened about his neck.

A/N; Sirrer is a 'right' man. Frequently charming they exert an almost hypnotic effect on women under their control. Had Aswenne had the strength to leave him, his self esteem would have collapsed and he might even have committed suicide. This is the longest short story in the book, the rest are less of a long haul...